


For Whom the Sun and Moon Hang

by Byacolate



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Horn Balm, Horn Stimulation, Interracial Appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In truth, no matter his course of action, he will never deserve her. </p><p>That doesn't mean he won't try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Whom the Sun and Moon Hang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mywordsflyup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/gifts).



> A little happy birthday to mywordsfly up with her first Inquisition romance ♥

He breaks the wax seal and pops the clay top away. He doesn’t know what he’d expected it to smell like - strong, probably, likely medicinal - but in fact, it’s barely more than a soft breath of violets. It’s less of a balm and more like oil, despite the name, so he only dabs the pad of his thumb in the vat and spreads that over the rest of his fingers before he rubs it into the base of her right horn.

 

“You truly don’t mind?” she asks, cross-legged on the floor before him. Unless he glances toward the mirror, he can’t see her face with her back to him like this, but there’s a tense line in her shoulders that doesn’t fool him for a heartbeat.

 

“What‘s there to mind?”

 

He‘s never explored the base of her horns before. He might‘ve expected the skin there to be rather thin, considering how it‘s stretched from her skull over the horns, but it‘s thick. Tough.

 

“The answer to that is always subjective,” she says, holding perfectly still.

 

The first experimental strokes are light, meant only to coat the flesh with oil. When his touch firms, experimental circles from scalp to horn, her rigid posture shifts. She goes even more taut, if that were possible, before a breath escapes her, and with it, her tenseness. Some of it, at least. She leans into his touch, and when he checks, long eyelashes are resting against her cheeks. The sight draws a smile to his face and the impulse to kiss her between the horns doesn‘t go unheeded.

 

“Subjectively, then,” he goes on, dabbing his fingers back into the pot. The fragrance is stronger now, a soft cloud of violets and the woodsy undercurrent of her preferred soaps. She very nearly purrs when he takes to massaging the base of her horns with ardor.

 

“It‘s... they aren‘t...” Her hand lifts, a flippant gesture. “They’re not my… my most human trait.”

 

“No, they’re not,” he agrees.

 

“I wouldn’t hold it against you if they were… unsettling to touch.”

 

Blackwall pauses.

 

“Unsettling?”

 

She grunts. “So I’ve been told.”

 

His eyes narrow.

 

“Of all the things I feel when I touch you, my lady,” he says, mindful of his oily fingers when he presses his knuckles to her jaw and tilts her head up to meet his eyes, “unsettled is the furthest from them.”

 

 She blinks up at him for a slow moment before her lips curl, ever so slightly, toward a bashful smile he's very fond of. She tips her head forward again before he can watch it bloom. 

 

“Perhaps frightening?”

  
“Frightening?" Blackwall says, brushing her hair aside to avoid the oil. "Is that such a terrible thing?”

 

She stares solemnly at herself in the mirror. “It can be.”

 

She‘s broad. The figure she cuts is imposing for her height and horns, her generous musculature, and the color of her skin.

 

And for all that, she is also kind of heart. Patient. Wise, despite what her preference for him might suggest. She doesn‘t seek glory for her name, but finds it regardless as due for her actions, and he is awed by her. It would be nothing less than a travesty to let her think an impressive pair of horns could detract from her virtues. As though her powerful features to not make her more extraordinary in his eyes.

 

“I don‘t think it matters much what fools choose to believe.” He leans in close to inspect his handiwork, and dabs at the spaces left dry before he rubs the oil in. “I think your horns are fetching.”

 

“Ah.” The tips of her ears darken. She doesn‘t turn to look at him. “You‘re being kind.”

 

“It‘s not a kindness to call a beautiful woman so,” he chuckles, and brushes his knuckles along a pointed ear.

 

Once he‘s satisfied, Blackwall caps the balm and sets it aside on the bed. “Horns done,” he announces, rubbing his oily fingers together for another burst of fragrance before he wipes them off on his trousers. “Now, I beg your patience,” he says, combing his fingers through her hair. “It‘s been quite some time since I've last done this.”

 

His fingers stumble for a time, and he has to unwind the braid and start from the top more than once. She knows he had a sister, once, and plaits were par for the course in that life so long ago.

 

It takes some time, but at last, his hands remember. He weaves her long hair into a braid, simple but neat. Efficient. It suits her in the way most things do.

 

The way he wants to suit her.

 

“You’re a soft heart in a formidable form, my lady,” Blackwall tells her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "No one foolhardy enough to find either trait lacking deserves your attention."

 

"You're being kind," she tells him again, lowering her eyes. But carefully, ever mindful of herself, she leans back to rest her head upon his thigh.

 

He brushes his thumb over her temple.

 

"It isn't a kindness to state a fact," he tells her simply. "Objectively, and without bias."

 

Her laugh strums through him like a bright note, and his heart begins to dance.

 

No matter what he does, he'll never deserve her. But that certainly doesn't mean he shouldn't try.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Leaves of Grass" by Walt Whitman
> 
>    
> Inquire about fic requests [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/ask)  
> If you are so inclined, feel free to follow [my Tumblr](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).


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